The Value In a Name: An Exploration into Multi-Species Ethnography

     Her name is Rosie; and she's an individual. I tell you this as I tell myself, because I know that even though I’ve thought about the lives, rights, and humanity of non-human animals tremendously over the course of the seven years I’ve practiced veganism, I think I still feel some amount of distance. I know this other life is more than a feeling and sensing mechanical body with a name attached, yet part of me doesn’t want to believe it, because that would mean truly empathizing with the billions of others just like her who won’t ever have the opportunities she does. 

     I find reading or watching movies on factory farmed or enslaved “animals” is very different than looking into the eyes of someone; an individual. It’s only then that I really see that glimpse of a self. It’s undeniable, heartwarming, and terrifying all at the same time. In some ways I saw Rosie, my assigned study partner, as cute, pet-able, fun-loving and playful, but I also stop for moments and realize this is a life outside all the human words I have for her. She and hundreds of thousands like her have adapted and endured over millennia to be these specific ways, and I know in all seriousness I owe her much more than “cute.” 

     Rosie is a magnificent individual. She has overcome incredible odds; through the whirlwinds of the mammalian radiation and endless ice-ages. Her distant ancestors have endured and adapted overtime; developing into entities with incredible senses for scavenging and food gathering, a nurturing demeanor for rearing offspring, and an advanced form of intelligence, language, and decision-making skills that have helped her kind survive and grow into what stands before me today. 

     I can’t say my history as a primate and homo-sapien is much different, aside humans rare, luck of the draw, odds of ending up with both opposable thumbs and bi-pedalism; something that helped us turn into a particularly fierce form of predator that has learned to prey on other pack animals by the billions. 

     In most respects we share the same story over the millenia, but Rosie's is arguably a bit more tragic over the past ten thousand years. Her forefathers were one of many grazing animals that upright apes enslaved and began farming in newly formed agricultural settings ten to twelve thousand years ago. With this enslavement her kind was bred to our specific liking; docile, easily managed, less dangerous to handle, etc. Many of her distant relatives still roam the earth today, but they are in short number in their natural settings. 

    Rosie's past probably has an amazing story attached to it, much like it probably has a horrific one. Her distant relatives were from completely opposite parts of the world originally, and she most-likely came to settle here in the Northwest because her previous family was imported as slaves either from Europe or directly from east Asia. We can trace her earliest enslaved ancestor origins from the mountainous regions of Vietnam and Thailand where her earliest kin were all quite small in stature. After many of her kind was selectively captured and “bred” for size and demeanor, some of her ancestral cousins were sold and imported to far-reaching places like Europe, and Central Asia, and eventually the Americas. This branching off and commodification over many thousands of years has distanced Rosie from so much of her original high-mountain roots. I wonder how much of her still has that ancient dimension of her intact and thriving.

     I use the term “bred,” above, perhaps in quite a devaluing way. Her ancestors were nothing short of enslaved; forced to cohabitate and reproduce at the will of their captors, and systematically selected for over hundreds and hundreds of generations. In this way, Rosie has overcome incredible odds to be here at Pigs Peace Sanctuary. If her families past could be retold as a narrative I think it would be both incredible and heartbreaking at the same time. It’s sad to think that the few who were enslaved indefinitely as “pets” were by far the lucky ones; the rest were farmed simply for their flesh.

    We now know that the much larger “farm” type pigs we commonly think of as food in modern pork production today are genetically linked to Rosie’s distant relatives. As well, the populations we know of as “wild boar” are also genetically linked through history as they are all able to interbreed. When genetically sequenced, Rosies earliest high-mountain ancestors show a remarkable amount of genetic diversity; it’s only when individual and isolated developing regions of humans selectively breed these individuals for human (food) desired traits and excessive size that the pot-bellies vast distinguishing visual features, colors, and variaion visually diminish.

    I’ve tried to imagine what it would be like knowing my roots are tied up distinctly to slavery and selective breeding practices, and I’ve decided I probably wouldn’t want to know or relate to something so abhorrent at all. It's heartbreaking to think about seeing the world this way. I find I am incredibly lucky to cherish the heritage I know of, as little to none in my not-so-distant past family tree were probably descendants of lifetime slavery.

    I feel it’s essential to any sort of multi-species study to first recognize this insane privilege I have, not only as a physically dominative species over so many countless others historically, but as a white, middle-class, able-bodied human who is lucky enough to have been born in a place of relative political calm, with unlimited access to potable water, an easily available and varietal food supply to maintain health, and bio-medicine and cognitive therapies to help aid unwanted thoughts, fears, infections, aches and pains. I am further privileged with the means to attend higher education, read vast academic, cultural and historical ideas in libraries, and to have had the past and present social support networks in place to get me where I am today with relative sanity and calm. It’s only with this extremely lucky life of privilege I’ve been handed, that I can make more holistic, philosophical, and ethical choices like choosing to avoid eating other animal and their many derivatives. 

     I know many more wish they had the luxury to make such a meaningful decision, and might simply never have the chance; for many the health of their family and their own well-being take precedent. Factory farmed pigs and bovine are another example; they're forced to eat nothing but refined carbohydrates like cornmeal and processed dead animal for the entirely of their lives. They will never get a chance to taste and nibble sweet greens on their tongue as they have been evolutionarily designed to do. Many house pets are also limited to hard crude protein nuggets that come from a mix of recycled dead animal parts and corn or soy. These individuals and their diets are sadly at the mercy of their captors, and providing a tasty natural diet is of little concern to most owners.

     I think it’s little things like palatable food that humans very often take for granted. These small luxuries are of the utmost concern to us day in and day out, and add up to so much more privilege than we'll ever know or understand. To look outside of our ingrained, often self-absorbed and human-centric cultural norms is rare. One might argue that humans more primitive historical processes didn’t allow for ethical considerations such as diet and the choice to limit our capture or enslavement of other sentient animal lives, simply because we were hungry. That argument holds great weight for primitive humans, especially considering our earliest ancestors are well-known to have developed in coastal regions alongside plentiful shellfish and marine life that arguably gave us this continued robust brain size and made us into what we are today. 

     However, there comes a time when killing stops becoming necessity of “kill or be killed,” and instead becomes sport; when dietary preferences stop becoming a means of survival, and instead seemingly turn into tradition and artisan flavor profiles; when skinning the hides from the back of a woodland creature to survive cold winters progressively becomes fashion and name-brand objects of desire; when killing someone from another species is no longer seen as an act of violence against another individual, but is instead systematically ingrained to the point of us going about our daily lives never questioning the practice (let alone ever experiencing it firsthand to understand what we habitually allow, vote up, and pay into.) It's times like this that we have a moral responsibility to act and invest intentionally vs blindly. The global north has commodified billions of Rosies' for nothing more than mouth feel and super-bowl sunday snacks. We've enslaved endless kinds of animals for countless kinds of foods and commodity, but no matter where you look; their screams, cries, fear, and desperate eyes all represent the yearning of only one thing; freedom.

     As one of our first readings in class from Torres so importantly pointed out, there comes a time when our global human-centric system of consumption needs to look outside itself and utilize our many forms of privilege for the ethical treatment of others with substantially less. Torres points out that if we have these means to do better; these means to otherwise stop or greatly reduce suffering, yet don’t act on them, we are choosing to exploit; we are choosing to continue making others suffer needlessly, and we are doing this simply because it’s easier to uphold these hierarchies already in place. 

     I think we're often persuaded to look the other way either because it makes us more money, or because we invest in delusional religious fanaticism. Many organized religions like judeo christianity preach absolute human dominion over every other species on the planet; worshipers are taught that all non-human animals were put here by a deity(s) only for their use and consumption. Religious followers also often dispute scientific data regarding evolution and relevant peer-reviewed study proving sentience in non-human animals. This often overlooked issue of religiously motivated exploitation is directly linked to politicians and their followers (particularly the conservative right) in the US; even amid a supposedly upheld separation of church and state. These biased and unscientific ideologies inevitably find their way into issues of legality, lobbying efforts, and amassed subsidies that feed endlessly into the farmed animal and dairy industries, of which Rosie's ancestors and current family are a product. 

     By law and the eyes of the state entity that rules and governs us here in the US, Rosie is considered nothing more than an object or commodity; a flesh and blood machine that operates at the whim of its owners. It’s with this in mind that I try to carefully consider Rosie's personal journey, and attempt to envision what she may think, feel, need or imagine in her own world as an individual; a feeling and empathic animal with individual needs and desires just like me and like you.

     I came to the sanctuary with an open heart and an open mind, and didn’t quite know what to expect. I knew there was a positive tone to the idea of a sanctuary, but amid the many individuals living here, and their many horrific stories of pain, fear, suffering and solitude, I knew this place was also one of haunted pasts. Every individual here has a story to tell, and Judy does her best to sit and listen and give space, freedom and time for healing; but as we all know, many scars are with us for life. Rosie is one of the relatively lucky pigs here at the sanctuary. Her youth is a blessing.

     Before I’m introduced to Rosie I’m given a brief story of her life. She’s been lucky enough to escape most of the physical and emotional trauma many others here have endured, and she's still very young and impressionable, so I am very thankful to hear she has such a wonderful place to do much of her future growth into an adult pig. Much of her childhood will still be in this peaceful place of respite and freedom; something so few get to experience in their lifetimes.

     I smiled and walked over to her fenced enclosure; excited to meet this new life with so much promise. I came in the first day wanting very much to try to understand more about her as an individual, and to try to piece together a narrative of her experiences as well as ours together.     

    I first noticed I felt differently about Rosie as an individual when I hesitated in how to properly introduce myself when we first met. I was taught to hold steady eye contact, smile, and reach my hand out to other humans, but the formality was quite different with the many dogs or cats I had met over the years. How was this greeting with Rosie supposed to go? She’s about eighteen inches high, and I tower well over five feet tall. I felt I might present quite a scary presence, at least at first, so I tried to crawl to her instead of walk up. I figured even if she was extremely used to other humans around the sanctuary I must have been more than a little intimidating to her at first; seeming to home in on her presence from the moment I arrived, and standing up on two legs as I was. 

     I knelt down and sat on the grass about 7 feet away, and she looked me over, scuttled up on her feet, and walked off. I gave her a minute and tried crawling a bit closer to her this time, and our eyes met for the first time. I saw a beautiful golden brown tone in them that reflected the sunlight and looked faintly auburn. I realized I never thought about what color a pigs eyes might be before that moment. Perhaps she noticed the color of mine as well.

     I was told Rosie’s eyes were those of a child; as she wasn’t even a year old yet. It was explained that she was the equivalent to a ten to twelve year old human in “pig years.” 

     Rosie wasn’t judging me like a wise old woman might have, she was instead sheepishly edging her gaze ever-upward; looking away quickly and then darting her eyes back at me again only every time a bit more intensely. It felt similar to the way any growing child might stare back. 

     I remember I was intensely shy once too. When I was very young I used to hide behind my mother's legs as a safety net when she introduced me to others; they always seemed so incredibly tall when I was that little; I always felt a bit timid around someone bigger than me. 

     I remember adults smiling at me and not knowing how to react back to them either. It was as if they knew some important secret I didn’t. I saw so much of my own shyness in young Rosie's eyes that first day, and felt an instant connection between us. I hope she felt it too. 

     As that first day unfolded she let me inch ever closer, and near the end of our few hours together at the sanctuary she let me sit about a foot away and allowed me to run my hands down her head and back. She smelled me and looked me over; perhaps deciding I wasn’t a threat, instead, merely there to enjoy her company. I can only speculate for now. “They call her Rosie,” I thought to myself.

     I am back again two weeks later and a little nervous; will she remember me and my scent or my face or hair and welcome me, or might I need to take a bit more time introducing myself into her terrain and personal space? If she's anything like me, trust takes a little bit of time.

     Judy talked to me a bit more about Rosie's history before coming here, and I discovered she was brought into the world rather tumultuously, and had quite the busy  and crowded early childhood.

I wondered  if she had the chance to grow and explore the world around her mother and father much before she was taken from them; learning, relaxing and playing with her siblings carefree. That abrupt loss must have been a rough day for her. She was taken to a new home with her brother and sisters, but never got to see her mom again. I wonder if she still thinks or dreams about her now. 

     Her siblings were hopefully a source of comfort to her, as they were playmates as well as sexual partners during this first adoption period. Her brother impregnated her when she was still quite young; about the equivalent of an eight or nine year old human girl. I'm unsure if this was something forced upon her or not. Either way, at least she had familiarity.

     I suspect she didn't get to know her mother or father very much before she was taken away from the original family that housed her, and I wondered if that made pregnancy more of a scary time. She had probably never seen anyone else go through this ordeal before; it was all brand new. I wonder if she knew she was leaving or not, and whether she got a chance to say goodbye to any of her family somehow as she was taken away from them. Was she scared? I would have been terrified.

     As her tummy grew larger and larger she probably had to spend a lot more time eating food and sleeping in weird positions. On top of experiencing pregnancy for the first time, she was suddenly uprooted from her 2nd home with a man from craigslist and placed in her current spot in the sanctuary. Alongside new strange people and new strange pigs around, it must have been strange to spend so much time outside for the first time in her life. This was her first time away from both of her siblings too. So much happened so fast to Rosie as a little kid.

     She was placed in the maternity ward at this new strange place with new strange smells and new strange noises, but the space and sun and grass must have felt wonderful. Her new home was shared with another expectant mother named Hazel. She has beautiful eyes like Rosie. I hope their shared experience of pregnancy together helped make things easier. I would guess enduring those huge heavy awkward belly moments alongside a new friend would be comforting in a way, as well as having someone nearby when in labor for the first time. 

     Rosie soon gave birth to lovely baby piglets. I got to see pictures of them as newborns, but didn't meet them until they were about 2 months old. They spend a lot of their time around their mother and nurse often when they see an opportune moment. I notice it's hard for her to sleep sometimes when they want to eat, eat, eat! I hope shes happy as a mommy.

     I wonder also if she ever feels sad sometimes, especially late at night when things get quiet. I wonder if she ever misses her family or the place she grew up, or if it’s all a distant memory now.

     Day two is here and I walk into the enclosure to say hi. She either remembers my face or my smell or my voice because she lets me walk right up to her today. I think we have a little thing going, Rosie and I. She likes getting lots of belly-rubs and I like giving them out; it’s the simple things in life that are the most enjoyable sometimes.      

     I wonder if It's rough being a mom at such a young age. Rosie does an exemplary job, regardless. She’s obviously very patient and gentle with her kiddos. She seems at home in her new space. Her piglets seem to keep her plenty busy and distracted too. 

     I’ve seen Rosie get stressed out and take a walk away from her piglets on occasion. She loves relaxing in the mud bath and then laying down peacefully in the shade of a big tree immediately next to it. The piglets run off to do their own exploring while she takes her quick mud dip. 

I gotta say, it looks so refreshing!

     Rosie was shy and somewhat withdrawn when I first met her, but now we fast-forward to after my third visit here and she's warmed up a lot. She came up as if to welcome me after I sat down in the grass and we locked eyes again as I scratched her ears and back. We laid up against one-another in the sun for awhile. 

     I gotta give her credit; she’s been through a heck of a lot in her single year on this planet. She’s still only a young girl; developing socially, physically, and psychologically, yet she's made it through incredible odds to get here in this place of respite. 

    It seems the shade is a relaxing oasis during the day and their enclosures and hay beds keep them cozy at night. The sun feels warm on her back as I pet her after she munches on grapevines for lunch. I give her one last friendly pet and say my goodbyes for now. She heads to her favorite place to nap in the shade of the big tree and lays down.

    I can’t be sure, but think we've made a new mutual friendship. I'm so happy, thankful and honored to have met such a wonderfully courageous young soul.

     To me, pigs Peace has been a lesson in patience, compassion, empathy, individuality, introspection and creativity. When I visited a place designed specifically for pigs in mind instead of humans I was forced to take a step back and appreciate what I often take for granted as human-centric, as well as what others thrive on as necessity. Vast space to roam free was the first thing that stuck out to me, and second, the ability to have privacy whenever they want it. This is something so fundamental to most that many probably take it for granted, while still cherishing it to no end; it’s also something very few pigs this day in age ever get to experience,

     It’s so important to remember this inequality when we so often govern and choose the living situation for others bodies. This most basic right is so often taken from non-human animals simply because we don’t take the time to get out of our humanness and try considering their ways of thinking and interacting with the world. It’s this respect we absolutely owe others; to slow down, learn from them and listen to what they need and how they thrive as individuals.

    If there are alternatives to needless suffering in others, we need to try to find them. This is true of both human and non-human animals, but especially critical to those without voices. As the capitalist hierarchy in much of the world stands, non-human animals are considered weak and easily exploited for their bodies, and therefore (according to top-down state societies) a resource that can and should be tapped to the fullest extent possible. 

     Pigs Peace Sanctuary defies that logic and questions capitalistic ideology. Pigs aren’t viewed as machines to be used, but instead as individuals with lives, wants, needs, feelings and fears. They are seen as a top priority of care and concern because they, more than anyone, lack a voice in the larger state and globalized movements, and in turn are the most easily exploited and often most cruelly treated individuals on the planet. Where there is room for abuse and suffering, we have an an ethical obligation to try to close that gap. Who are we if we willingly choose not to?

     Pigs peace is just one way of active resistance against the political and economic norms we take for granted in society, but there are many others. Activism is always very helpful in almost any form of resistance. Social anarchistic methods of research is another; as we learn to think about animal bodies and their own agendas we break down barriers, address the sustainability of top-down approaches, ask new questions, and find new ways to combat complex issues; we can ban together to combat institutionalized violence, question state-run pedagogies, and learn new ways to move forward as a species while promoting harmony and respect with others who share spaces with us.

Journal #4: An attempt to join the science and philosophy of Consciousness (part 2)

     To start, it’s worth noting that I'm personally more than a bit of a nihilist, but for the sake of this class, those that value the longevity of life, and the billions of animals we owe the benefit of the doubt, I'm going to try my best to put this idea of philosophic ideals aside, and talk about the reality of the situation at hand; the reality is, there is tremendous, horrific suffering happening at every second of every day in places like CAFOs, animal breeding facilities, dairy operations, fur farms, and countless others around the world, and ideology isn't going to save them.

    It's also worth noting that the only reason these non-human animals suffer so horrifically is to be alive for our pleasure and livelihood; the sheer numbers alone warrant an alarming call to activists everywhere, but our reliance on them is so deeply systemic and far reaching into nearly every economic sector, it's hard for us to imagine anything else. The assumed dominance, and the use and ownership of these individuals happens in such great numbers around the world that it’s often hard to imagine a progressive, ethical and sustainable way.

    As I mentioned before, there are organizations like PETA that stand by the view of complete non-suffering (a form of utilitarianism) and are quick to ethically euthanize countless lives before they believe anymore suffering possibly occurs. 

     PETAs president Ingrid Newkirk has been quoted saying “It would be lovely if we stopped this whole notion of pets altogether.” Their views on animals birthed and forced into the commodified system are that they are always going to be at risk for suffering, abuse, torture, etc, no matter what. Even if they were to be later adopted, they hold the mentality that amongst human control, non-human animals will always be voiceless and vulnerable to abuse; that their dignity as individuals will never be met when they are forced into roles as “pets,” for humans.

    There is a blatant philosophical difference here between the “right to life,” ideologies of animal activists groups like the ALF (and “no kill” shelters) versus the “right to not suffer” side of the spectrum of those like PETA and the Humane Society who are quick to dispatch animal lives via ethical euthanasia. 

     In reality, most disagree with euthanasia or consider it only a last resort. They see bringing about early death itself as unfair treatment. I guess I want others to question what’s so cruel about being dead, or is it simply the very end moments that are unfair (the needle poke into the neck), or the taking away of “potential,” happiness one may have had? There is a general assumption most humans and animals prefer to live as long as possible, which I personally see as a “quantity over quality” argument. The “live fast and die young,” rationale see longevity as a complete misconception of true happiness, owing short-lived and happy as the better life.

    I guess the taboo associated with euthanasia is the idea that it’s a slippery slope problem. Who makes the call, and when is the time “right” to die? Is it simply a matter of personal choice to choose fate? Many agree that “right to die,” as Washington and Oregon have deemed fair, is a human right when we are terminally ill within 6 months. So the question is, what happens when we apply this thinking to conscious, sentient beings who don't have a voice or rights like humans do? 

     Many argue that non-human animals don't have a “conscience,” and therefore don't have the same rights and aspirations of human animals, however it's quite clear, scientifically speaking, that this is not the case. A large consensus of scientists at a conference at Cambridge in 2012 came to a landmark agreement when they concluded there are in fact many conscious non-human animals such as marine mammals, cephalopods, birds, etc, that have the distinct ability to feel, fear, think and hold self-awareness like homo-sapiens can. 

     They concluded that non-human animals are not simply biological “machines,” that go about their day because of evolutionary programming, or because of innate or involuntary mechanisms. These individuals (as they should be considered) are instead the “aspiring selves” Kinsey talks about. They are due the same rights humans are; a life free of slavery, pain, fear and mistreatment. They are entitled to live lives their own way, and in their own natural environments. 

     Of course this agreement was quite controversial to many outside this scientific consensus. When people have livelihoods, wealth, stability, future investment, etc based around the enslavement and mass-commodification of billions of non-human animals, this type of statement is a blatant attack on their ways of life and profession. 

    So what about those cases where ethics come into play instead of monetary gain? Occasional we see cases of humans that are in brain dead states after traumatic brain injury, or humans that are otherwise incapacitated due to persistent paralysis, coma, or other physiological reasons. This also includes corporal punishment. In past cases we've seen these humans life and death choices go to the courts to decide, but generally the most immediate  family of the individual has first say over the person's right to live or die. These people, some would say, are no longer sentient individuals with rights, and therefore no longer themselves, and thus no longer human at all; in which case these bodies are judged unworthy or incapable of continuing to live a meaningful life, and instead brought to justice or peace through death.

    In the historic case of Terri Schevo, the family ended up fighting each other to adequately represent as her proxy. The two sides disagreed about the philosophical reasons of whether to keep her body alive or to take her off life support (tube feeding). In so doing, ultimately it was decided that medical professionals were to let her die, and because Schevo didn’t require a breathing apparatus, but instead a feeding tube for continued support, she persisted for thirteen days after this tube was removed, her body slowly dehydrating to death.

    I think it’s important to point out this case, because ultimately Schevo was sentenced to a death not considered worthy of even the most uncherished animal being. There was no swift euthanization process to stop her heart and organ function and end her life quickly; instead, because of the laws and medical procedures allowed in the area, she died in one of the most grotesquely torturous ways imaginable. For the last few days her eyes were described as sunken in with blood pooling inside them, her skin withered and brittle, her face and body as skeletal, her groaning erratic, and her tongue and lips cracked open and blistering.

    I would argue that most agree; even the most far-removed brain-dead body of any animal deserves so much better a death than this one, alas, our legal system ironically grants death to those who most arguably need it, but surely not a humane, swift or painless one.

    I see Schevo's case border some of the many animal cruelty examples we’ve seen in the past, but with alarmin irony… are those “deserving” of death still sentient or human to us at all? Capital punishment’s lax legislation and oversight of painless “ethical” death via lethal injection, as well as faulty captive bolt guns and electrocuting devices during slaughter are examples of how we might distance ourselves and our empathic tendencies toward others away from those we deem worthy or deserving of death. 

     In Schevo’s case, I see her cross that “animal/human” boundary as soon as her death was decided imminent; at that moment she wasn’t human to us anymore, she had become animal simply because we couldn’t bear her not to be one. To try to empathize or cope with the horrific violence we inflicted on her is too much for us to internalize, so we deemed her to be something lesser-than, much like we deem most all other human animals to be lesser-than.

Journal #3: An attempt to join the science and philosophy of Consciousness (part 1)

    My thoughts on a livable or “worthwhile” life always come back to the central and peripheral nervous system for me; i.e. suffering or pain. Is life worth living if there is the possibility of immense physiological pain or suffering, emotional strife, sadness, intense fear, a complete loss of natural habitat, endless loneliness, or a complete inability to move the way we wish (i.e. to be able to scratch, yawn, hug, or cry, etc) Are these lived experiences worth enduring these type of feelings and sadness? Is sadness and pain relative? How? Where do we choose to end things if we could; both for ourselves and for others? There is a largely cultural construction of what pain means within different societies, but in traditional bio-medicine and DSM classifications we often define it as the thing that limits our ability to experience and live out our regular daily activities. If we are indeed so depressed, fearful, delusional, incapacitated, or in regular and incapacitating throes of pain that we can’t easily put an end to; can this quality of life be deemed acceptable to anyone other than us and our judgment? 

     It’s quite common to see older or injured animals in the wild disconnecting from others around them and going off to some isolated, comfortable and safe place they know well to lay down and accept their own death. They, in essence, choose their right time. Their hearts don’t generally stop beating in the midst of daily activity, they instead feel death creeping ever closer, and make a personal call to give up on something once deemed worthwhile.

    The terrifying reality about confinements like CAFOs is that these animals never get that chance; if someone is in the throes of death they simply fall down onto cold steel bars and get trampled and slowly eaten to death by others nearby. If they’re “lucky” enough to make it to slaughter, they’re instead destined to be bled to death, scalded alive, beat until unconscious, electrocuted, or if they’re lucky; captive bolted before slaughter begins.

    I propose a thought experiment; if I have an amazing 80 years on the planet full of liveliness, hope, love and sharing; is it then okay to endure a short 3-6 months of agony in a hospital bed as a cancer eats away at my insides, or mucus slowly drowns me to death? Does that long lovely life I enjoyed endlessly now justify this enduring of the natural dying process? Or, would it instead be more ethical, intelligent, or more enjoyable to simply take a high-dose cocktail of opioids at the first sign of unavoidable and irreversible death; and simply slip away peacefully in my sleep after having said a planned goodbye to my family, friends and loved ones? Some would argue that we should always be able to choose how and when we die, and this, in a non speciesist view,  would deem animal farming quite unethical.

    I think back a lot to my many years working alongside people with physical and developmental disabilities for explanation and example of my own consciousness, feeling, enjoyment of life, and thankfulness. I've worked with a number of individuals who often had no speech, no obvious “higher awareness” of self, or no ability to communicate or speak for themselves in any way, yet they were still individuals and we treated them as such. Many were in “vegetative” type states, or so severely brain damaged they didn't understand the difference between foreign objects (like spoons, plaster, lint or safety pins) and nourishing food. In one example, I helped a woman daily for about a year who had at one time pried off and swallowed the doorknob to her bedroom due to an extreme and obsessive form of pica brought about by severe childhood brain damage after a fall; she was 57 and had been consuming random objects most of her life. She had endured multiple surgeries to remove dangerous foreign objects, and in the case of the doorknob, had to have emergency surgical removal in her throat.

    It's probably not up to me or anyone else to judge whether her life is worth living or not and most would agree that there's no consensual way for her to tell me or others either way, but because we value human life of ANY capacity over death, she was never left unresuscitated. 

     I think it would be just as awful for me to assume that she has a willingness to live and thrive as I would assuming she doesn’t, considering she was constantly trying to (in essence) kill herself. What if she (as the person she once was) was still somehow inside those wandering eyes unable to make contact with others, and her ape-like walking on hands that had severely deformed her body was still her way of control. If given the chance she would eat or drink to the point of vomiting. She had no gag reflex, so couldn't consume liquids unless thickened. She had eaten all her teeth long ago. We couldn’t have running water around as she would incessantly drink with her mouth from a spout or faucet until she vomited and violently aspirated.

    Was she ignorantly happy in this state, or tortured? Does “nature” know better than our tube feeding, ventilators and severe chemotherapy methods? This particular experience into interacting with someone severely brain damaged reminds me of the also rare condition of “locked in syndrome,” a hellish type of brain trauma. For those that are lucky enough to have high-tech medical care available, communication is still possible through blinking or monitoring of brain waves, but those that never get that luxury are much like I think about non-human animal bodies exploited by humans; forced to live inside their mind, often unable to move or communicate their needs, fears, pain, love or sadness effectively for their entire lives. 

     I guess this is where philosophy comes in for me. I believe the only way to suffer is to be alive, and choosing the continuity of life is what keeps suffering plentiful. You certainly can’t suffer or regret things when you’re dead, but most also argue that life is better than nothingness. Humans instead choose to be “fruitful” and long-lived as the dominant species, and in doing so destroy entire Eco-systems of non-human animals, and create endless product line uses for spare body parts. We commodify billions and billions of bodies because of our over- population, our lavish appetites for flesh, and our medically-driven artificially longer lives.

Journal #2: Multispecies Theory and Identity

     There’s this incredible intersection of disciplines in this class material, creating a complex maze of ideas whirling about in my head. I’m mostly focusing on being present in the subject matter... much like our experience with the snail book, but I also want to try comparing and contrasting human and nonhuman animals while diving into others research.

     As a student with a passion for the subject, I find myself relying more on physical and quantitative data as evidence that we’re all so incredibly similar, but as an advocate I feel like a picture or a story reaches so many more like we saw in class documentaries. Learning to spread or teach empathy is what I find myself trying to focus on as an advocate for those most vulnerable, but where is best to begin?

     I’ve narrowed a giant conceptual framework in my head down to a handful of academic focal points to home in on, these include; ethics, neural biology, anthrozoology, critical animal studies, holistic ideas surrounding pedagogy, trans-species psychology, and activism. 

Phew.. deep breath.

     I keep coming back to that damn experiment in empathy though, and how we can hypothetically go about teach others this “presence” or shared spirit of experience, pain, fear, suffering, etc. There isn’t (surprisingly) a lot of work being done in this subject, so much of this research is simply collected from the exhaustive list above. How do we develop this “guilt” Garcia talks about amongst cuyes, or learning to honor “sense of selves” as Kirksey puts it.

     Perhaps this parade of visuals we see from PETA and others might turn more heads; helping us better imagine a beloved pet of ours, perhaps a cat or dog in a small crate,  and destined for the slaughterhouse. Can we make this intersection personal? We've come to love and care for these animals living alongside us, in our households, so very much; as part of our immediate family they bring smiles, tears, laughter and joy into our lives, and we come to know their expressions, personalities, and mannerisms, but in this thought experiment we're now imagining that same animal in the position a dairy cow or swine might occupy in our food system; one of entrapment, lack of freedom, fear, solitude, and suffering. This cat or dog, a naturally mobile, fun-loving and active animal may live in a small enclosure so miniscule that they're unable to turn around, they might not be able to scratch or lick themselves naturally, they may have been ripped from their parents hours after being born, they may never be able to enjoy the sun on their back or the feeling of running free around a yard, they may never be pet, hugged, cuddled, loved or shown affection. When this cat or dog screams out in pain or fear there will be no comfort or feeling of safety that we so willingly give in our homes, instead there are only cold metal bars, the occasional crying of others, and the horrific stench of their own feces and urine running down their legs every night.

     Is this any sort of life we would want for our beloved pets at home? Wouldn't we more appropriately term this form of treatment "torture," or slavery instead of life at all?

I think about multispecies ethnography this way, and try to dive even deeper as Garcia did in her paper when she compares her feeling of pregnancy and physical and emotional strife to those without voices in the same situation. How much harder it must be for them.

    The problem I see more than any is the physical barriers that exist to distance us. Our judgement of bodies are purely that. If a human in a vegetative or low-functioning state had a similar will of that to a guinea pig, we'd never in our modern society deem it comparable, simply due to it's form; we don’t necessarily see or feel an "essence" or prerogative or will or want, only its internal being simply because it appears so alien to us outwardly. I personally see this as ignorance on our part, and we do it constantly. We know nothing of what it's like to want to live, breath and experience as a guinea pig, therefore we assume it has none of the above worth living. We assume it's needs are inherently futile or non-existent simply because we don't try to speak or understand guinea pig.

    This lack of caring, assumption of ownership, and general acceptance for a lack of pain, fear and suffering on the animals part reminds me much of the human history of racial bias and enslavement of other humans. Our speciesism toward other animals is akin to the way sailors once saw black skin from foreign continents, or how we misunderstood foreign language and different outward appearances from other places in the world as “primitive,” instead of recognizing they’ve often been in place far longer than our own cultural norms. Historically we’ve long treated these individuals and their cultures, livelihood, and prerogative in life as something futile, uninteresting, unimportant, or simply non-existent outside our own elitist and anthropocentric views of proper lifestyle choices.

    The historical practice of human slavery is a very common one. We perceive others as alien, and therefore somehow irrelevant enough to not be worthy of equal consideration, rights, safety, equality, life, liberty or happiness.. often times these racial barriers were enough to equate others with not being human, but even more so; assuming the inability to feel emotional or psychological pain... as well as physiological. This is an important distinction, because this injustice is still widely practiced today amongst groups of people, and we often think of it as the utmost injustice here in Western societies. (ie: the caste system in India, or the the sex trade of teenage girls overseas) Much of the global north has begun to move beyond ethnic and racial borders, however, we still treat non-human animals as commodity and objects to be used for human use. We still refuse to generally assign them rights. Why do we not take others lives and well-being seriously?

     One could argue that animals were and still are a means of survival to many. There are places in the world where animal consumption is more than just a staple means of protein and monetary livelihood, but also a deep-seated tradition. Who is anyone to argue religious or cultural testament? When objects, not animal “selves” are the subject, we can't and don't push for change. It's not until we see animals as individuals that we can begin to step in as a society and begin to provide protections for those with no voice. Objects don't need rights, but living breathing and opportunistic creatures who arguable want them, but simply lack the ability to verbally express it, certainly do. Let’s try to speak for them.

  

Journal #1: So, why discuss the value of non-human animals?

    I've been practicing my own version of ethical veganism for nearly 7 years now, and I've had a lot of time to think about why I choose to live more intentionally and less main-stream, or "popular" in the eyes of many. The "status quo."
I feel like a lot of the eating habits Americans develop are much more than just tradition; they've evolveded around what is popular, what is easy, what is going to make someone fit in and not "stand out," what is going to make them a better social individual; and honestly, veganism is very much NOT any of that. As it stands, living your life devoid of animal products is a pretty anti-social move, and it's also a pretty big political statement in terms of where you stand against mega-corporations and government recommendations of basic food requirements.
This is quite clearly taking a stand against the state too . Choosing to stop consuming and investing in animal products is most certainly one of the most life-changing endeavors I've ever done; it's much more than a diet or a consumer choice, choosing a vegan lifestyle was my way of bringing my philosophy into a livable, proactive and real experience; In doing so I learn constantly, and maintain a level of activeness that pushes back against the main stream flow of money and politics; CAFOs, egg-laying cages, 50% of corn grown for animal feed.
The more I stick to this lifestyle I continue to change my view of the world, literally every day.
I've personally changed tremendously in years since. To be aware of the real situation animals face, to read ingredient labels, to be cognicant of background community functions and funding, and company and political ties is to be active in animal rights, whether you choose to be or not; veganism is just that.
Some have compared veganism to a modern day McCarthyism; animal activists are actively sought out as terrorist organizations and labeled as such; supporters who leaflet are put on travel watch lists. To be a vegan in the United States or most anywhere in the world is quite honestly a positionality much like a freedom fighter. You're being not only anti-capitalist but anti-state when you choose not to consume animal products.
The government has made its position quite clear, because we can trace dozens of giant subsidies that reach deep into the dairy and cattleman industries and the millions of acres of corn that is raised to feed them. Once the larger government machines take a position of corporate trade and dependance, its very difficult to get them to change positions, and just as difficult to get them to stop supporting the companies who specifcally rely on that government support, because when it comes down to maximizing profit and maximizing output for the "greater good", animals will most definitely be exploited; there's no doubt about it.
And when I talk with omnivores who are trying to be ethical about their meat eating decisions by choosing local or grass-fed, I explain to them that the small independent ranchers who market their products as a more healthy way of eating, and the more sustainable way to go about eating flesh, I tell them that their habits are quite honestly a very slippery slope in the direction of large corporate takeover of animals lives down the line.
I'd like to think we have the animals welfare in our best interests, but honestly I don't see that ethic in anyone who raises animals, even the smaller local farmers who invest a lot of time and effort into raising "ethical meat."
The bottom line is, we're exploiting living beings for our breakfast, lunch, and dinner; our taste buds.
     So why discuss animal value? Because value is relative. Ive always considered those around me to be valuable and of very special significance; I've learned to love my peers and friends with a devotion and drive that can only be described as a deep connectedness, and quite honestly, I've never really seen a huge difference between bonding with another human animal and with a different non-human animal.
Sure, they might look very different, they might be a lot more hairy, they might poop in litter boxes or run in herds or have different priorities throughout the day, but when it comes down to our shared traits, they want to live in peace like us, they often want to raise a family like us, they want to not suffer like us, they want to feel loved like us.
I think this is one of the hardest concepts for omnivores to understand; this need for love in anything outside ourselves.
This takes true empathy. We think of love as a particularly genuine and unique human trait, but I don't think that's at all the case after watching and participating in daily animal lives.
I think we can both agree that love is definitely in the eye of the beholder, and it's  a very qualitative state of understanding peace and respect, however I think it's immensely important and monumental to happiness and meaning in all our lives and throughout all our life, and for us to deny or steal away another animals right to happiness or love is one of the most horrible atrocities I can think of. Empathy teaches.

Without freedom there is little meaning.